by Advocate
Will brought the torch closer and Faylinn gathered up the last of the cloth. Her eyes went round and her hands formed trembling fists as she saw for the first time the brutal price Bridget’s body had paid for Cyril’s deceit. "Sweet Jesus," she muttered, her stomach clenching painfully despite Will’s earlier warning.
Cuts and scratches criss-crossed Bridget’s breasts and shoulders. Several so deep they’d required sewing. The stitches were crudely done, but Bridget had been wiped clean and even the small wounds showed signs of care. "Thank you," Faylinn said again, wishing there was more she could say that would convey her heart-felt gratitude.
Green eyes were drawn to a small cut in the valley between Bridget’s breasts. It had jagged red streaks shooting from it and oozed an unhealthy discharge. Faylinn sighed. Infected. But more troubling still, was a black and purple bruise that covered Bridget’s entire abdomen. She laid a hand atop the mottled, swollen, flesh, finding it hot to the touch. Her heart sank. Even Faylinn knew enough to know Bridget was bleeding inside. A dark rage grabbed hold of her and shook her to the core. I should have run you through myself, Cyril, you bastard!
Faylinn felt more tears coming and she bit her lip to ward off their flow.
Will’s tone softened and he felt a stab of pity for this slip of a girl in his son’s old clothes. "Take heart, Faylinn. She’s not dead yet." At least, not yet. "She looks like a strong one. She was heavy as a sow."
Faylinn blinked at Will’s choice of words but chose not to comment. Wordlessly, she re-wrapped the bandages, putting the knot on top this time so Bridget wouldn’t be lying on it. She handed Will back what she suspected was a horse blanket and maneuvered the quilt until Bridget was safely underneath. "How could someone do this to you?" She hadn’t realized she’d said the words out loud until Will answered her.
"So she would confess to bein’ a witch, of course," he supplied conversationally. "Those cuts on her chest and shoulders were no accident. As for the scratches, who knows." He drew his thick eyebrows together in contemplation. "Looks like she fought with a tree or a bobcat."
"Or a cliff." Her voice was the barest of whispers as she swept a tangle of dark hair off Bridget’s forehead. She let her fingers linger in the soft but dirty hair. How could you have jumped? How could you have lived? How could I have heard your sweet words inside me own head, as though I was saying them? Maybe I’m going mad.
Will stepped away from the bed, feeling very much like he was intruding upon a private moment between the women. "My wife set the arm as best she could. She’s got a talent for doctoring. My Katie gave her a good dose of sleeping tonic for the pain. We couldn’t set the arm ‘till she was asleep. She kept fighting us." He studied his shoes. "I’m sorry I threw you out. I know you didn’t mean to—"
"I’m sorry I got sick. I—I’ve been under a lot of stress this past week. The sight and smell…."
Will squared his shoulders. "I heard some of what happened on Cobb Island in town yesterday morning as I was passing through."
Faylinn looked at him frankly. "I’m sure it was more than enough."
"It was. We don’t believe in witches in this house." The corner of his mouth curved upward. "Or barn."
She managed a tiny smile.
He leaned against the wall by the bed. "She’s already got a fever."
"I know. I’ll stay with her. We won’t be much trouble. And we’ll leave as soon as we can. In my dress I have a bracelet—"
Will snorted loudly. "We don’t want your baubles or filthy slave-trader money."
Afraid she’d offended him, Faylinn began a rambling apology that was stopped abruptly when he asked, "Can you read?"
She nodded slowly, confused. "Yes, of cour— " Her cheeks tinted. "Yes, I can."
Her slip of the tongue hadn’t gone unnoticed. But Will decided it meant far less than the fact that the young woman was kind enough to try to cover it up. "Then we’ll take payment in the form of you reading the Bible to us." He looked a little embarrassed, but pressed on. "Is it a deal?"
"Absolutely." She regarded him curiously. "I wish I could do more."
He kicked at the floor awkwardly and stuffed his hands into his pockets. "That will make Katie happy. So it’s enough." When he glanced up, Will was surprised to be looking into green eyes swimming with tears.
In that simple gesture, Faylinn Cobb had just witnessed more love for one spouse by the other than all her years prior. "Whenever you want me to read, just ask. No matter what it is. No matter when."
"The Bible will be enough. We’re not Puritans, mind you, but Katie, at least, is still a good Christian."
Bridget’s soft moan interrupted them and Faylinn shifted closer, searching her face for any clue as to how she could make her more comfortable. When her eyes dropped to bruised lips she had the strongest urge to bend over and softly kiss… God, what am I going to do? That she loved Bridget was clear. That she loved her the way a man could love a woman – with a longing and passion that caused her heart to skip frequent beats – was almost as frightening as it was compelling.
Pushing the thought away as unmanageable, Faylinn lifted her hand and tenderly traced the red, angry skin alongside a stitched gash that ran from just above Bridget’s eye all the way to her jawbone.
Will sighed. "I’m thinkin’ it will scar." He winced inwardly. More’s the pity. She could have had her pick of husbands. "There was nothing to be done but clean and stitch it. A bandage won’t hold on there."
Faylinn took Bridget’s limp hand in her own. "Doesn’t matter if it scars" she murmured. Her gaze turned fond. "She’ll always be beautiful."
A small smile edged its way onto Will’s face. "I’ll leave you to rest then." He jerked his chin towards the window. "It’s past sunrise, though you wouldn’t know it by the looks of it. I’ll bring you some food once you’ve had a chance to rest." He laughed when Faylinn jumped up and began situating herself next to Bridget on the small bed.
The man extinguished the torch in the cool ashes along the edge of the fireplace, then tossed in another round of oak onto the coals. It was going to be cold today. He could feel it in his bones.
Faylinn didn’t even realize when he crept out of the room.
CHAPTER FOUR
AFTER SITTING FOR nearly three hours listening to Badger weave the tale, Kayla and Liv decided to have their taxi drop them off at the bottom of the Royal Mile, near the Palace of Holyrood House, Queen Elizabeth’s official Edinburgh residence. The idea of fresh air and a brisk walk appealed to both of them. The afternoon breeze was still cool and strong enough to tousle their hair and turn their cheeks rosy, but not so cold as to be uncomfortable. It carried with it the scent of wet sidewalks, car exhaust, and the sea.
Kayla had been silent all the way back into town. Then a rapid stream of words burst from her. "I can’t believe he did that. I can’t believe he just stopped!"
Liv was a little startled by her reticent friend’s outburst. "What did you expect, Kayla?" she chided gently. "Badger is an old man, and he’d been going non-stop for quite a while. His voice was bound to give out eventually."
"Well, sure. But," Kayla let out a grumpy breath, "I wanna know what happened, I guess." She threw her hands in the air, not sure how to process things. She was used to having an insatiable curiosity when it came to her work, but never with something personal. "He could have skipped all the melodrama and just cut to the chase, right?"
Liv assumed the question was rhetorical so she waited.
Kayla began ticking off on her fingers. "We know Bridget killed her brother. But we don’t know how she survived her fall from the cliff, or how she and Faylinn made it to the mainland, or whether Bridget ultimately survived her injuries, or—"
"Whether they ended up together," Liv finished. "I’m dying to know that myself."
"Exactly." Kayla gave her an aggrieved look. She was desperate to know that someone in her family was able to make a relationship work in spite of their paranormal abilities. Her father’s talents were on
the very low end of the scale and it hadn’t ever seemed to be an issue for her parents. But it had always, always been an issue for her.
Liv smiled, thinking that Kayla looked impossibly cute when she pouted. Of course, she wasn’t going to share that thought with the nearly six feet of moody baby next to her, but it was true nonetheless.
Kayla stopped walking and turned to face Liv. Her hands flew to her hips and she spoke sharply. "I am not moody! And I’m certainly not a baby."
Liv stopped as well, then stepped backwards so that several people who were scurrying up the street could pass between them. She pinned Kayla with a glare. "I didn’t say you were."
The scowl on Kayla’s face was replaced by a tense, worried look. Oh, shit. "I… uh… I just— "
"You read my mind," Liv said evenly.
Kayla cringed. "I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to." Her heartbeat sped up. This is where things go all to hell and I get accused of spying on her thoughts. I’ve got to learn better control! I— "I was just walking along and the thought popped into my head."
Liv chewed the inside of her cheek for a moment, fighting the urge to get good and pissed off. Then her better judgment took over and she sighed. "Did you do it on purpose?" she asked, already fairly certain of the answer and hating the poorly veiled anxiety she saw in Kayla’s eyes.
"No!" Kayla moved forward in reflex, needing to close the gap between her and Liv. She looked around self-consciously to see if anyone was staring. "No," she repeated a little more quietly as her eyes met and held Liv’s. "I swear."
There was an intensity to Kayla’s answer that made Liv’s heart ache and she gentled her gaze. Time to start working on this. For both our sakes. She reached out and took Kayla’s hand. "Relax, will ya? I’m not mad."
The dark-haired woman remained warily silent.
Liv sighed again. "You might need to remind me of this every once in a while, but I really shouldn’t get mad at you for something you didn’t intentionally do. Okay?"
Kayla blinked dumbly at Liv. She couldn’t have heard her right. "You-you shouldn’t?"
"No," she told her seriously, "I shouldn’t." Who did this to you? "Honey, I’m not going to blame you for something out of your control." A smile tugged at her lips when she saw Kayla’s face begin to relax. That’s it, love. "Unless I have PMS." She grinned recklessly. "Then you’re screwed." Liv’s words where greeted with a tiny burst of laughter from Kayla that was equal parts happiness and relief.
I am so lucky. I’d better not fuck this up. Kayla looked at Liv with utter affection "Thank you," she said simply, still a little dumbfounded, but not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
"You’re welcome." You’re not going to get rid of me that easily. We’re going to talk about this… just not in the middle of the sidewalk.
"So," Liv deftly steered the conversation in another direction as they began walking again, "were you surprised that Bridget was still alive?"
Kayla willingly allowed herself to be distracted and her brows knitted as she thought. "I guess not," she finally decided. "I know it’s all fantastic, nearly too much to believe. "But deep down inside I had this niggling suspicion that their story wasn’t quite over yet."
Liv tucked an errant lock of fair hair behind her ear. "Mmm," she acknowledged with a small nod.
Kayla carefully guided them around a tall postcard stand and a pack of student tourists. "You?"
Liv took several steps before answering. "Oh… Well, the same as you, I guess." She didn’t feel comfortable sharing with Kayla that her stomach had been in knots until Badger made it very clear that Bridget had survived the cliff. There was something indefinable about Bridget Redding that reminded her of Kayla. It went beyond the obvious physical similarities, touching on subtle, emotional elements that Liv found undeniably interesting as well as attractive. She thought about that for a moment and Kayla’s over reaction a few minutes ago. Maybe there is something about this story that stirs something in us both. Maybe.
* * *
Liv and Kayla turned off the Royal Mile and began winding their way through the Gothic streets of Old Town. Within a few moments they were standing in front of the Keith House, a tall, narrow three-story structure that had clearly undergone recent renovations. The centuries of chimney smoke that stained so many buildings from that time period, and added significantly to their eerie mystique, had been scrubbed clean.
Though Liv would always associate Gothic architecture with the Adams Family and consider it ‘classic horror film spooky’, the Keith House, at least its exterior, already had a less haunting feel than many others she’d seen. It retained the beauty of the era without the foreboding. Which was odd, Liv considered. Since this was thehouse they were about to investigate for… She couldn’t remember what Kayla had called it exactly, but it had some long, technical name that had to do with blood and the paranormal. Not that it mattered. Liv’s mind had already settled on ‘some seriously spooky shit’.
There was no sign of the press and so Kayla eagerly trotted up the steps to the front door and inserted the key Glen had given her the day before. "Time to earn some money." Her excitement was clear and Liv tried to grasp hold of that and make it her own, disregarding some of the nervousness that had been building since they turned off the main road onto this lonely street. This was the start of a new career and she was bound and determined to push past her own silly fears and be of real use to Kayla.
The door to the Keith House was heavy but it opened without a sound.
They walked inside into a large foyer with high ceilings and freshly painted walls. Liv spun in a circle, taking in her surroundings openmouthed. "Wow."
Kayla nodded. "Wow. Not exactly what I was expecting."
"Me neither."
The house was completely empty. No furniture. No rugs. No paintings. Nothing.
Liv carefully crept a few paces deeper into the foyer. "Looks like Mr. Keith is going to do a little… all right, a lot of redecorating before his grand opening." Her quiet words sounded unusually loud in the hollow room. She poked her head around a corner, finding nothing but vacuous space. It was only early evening, but the house’s interior was already cast in long gray shadows that seemed to move with Liv as she walked. But more than that, it was deathly quiet. Silent as a grave. Okay, this I don’t like.
"See anything interesting?"
"Yaaaaaaah!" Liv jumped at the low voice right by her ear. "Jesus, Kayla!" She whirled around to face her tormentor, laying her palm across her own chest and feeling the pounding heart. "Are you trying to kill me?"
Kayla bit back a smile and jerked her thumb towards herself. "Who me?" Puppy dog eyes blinked at her.
"Oh, no!" Liv’s eyes turned to slits. "Don’t give me that ‘I’m-too-cute-to-do-something-mean’ face. "
"Cute?" Kayla managed to sound mildly insulted at the idea. But her lips continued to twitch.
"You’re trying not to laugh, aren’t you?"
Think disgusting thoughts. I. Will. Not. Laugh. "Of course not." The words were said soberly, but Kayla’s quivering chin betrayed her.
"Liar!"
"I’m… I’m…" Kayla dissolved into laughter.
Liv crossed her arms over her chest and whined, "It’s not funny, Kayla! You know I’m not used to this creepy stuff yet."
"Sure it is." Kayla continued to laugh, not stopping when Liv gave her a plastic smile. "Okay, okay," she conceded reluctantly. She grabbed hold of Liv before she could stalk out of the room. "I’m sorry."
Liv arched an eyebrow. "No, you’re not."
Kayla crossed her heart and held up three fingers. "I am. Honest."
Now Liv was holding back her own grin, delighted at the appearance of Kayla’s more playful side. "You know I’ll get you back," she informed her haughtily.
Two dark eyebrows shot skyward. "You can try, Liv."
Liv pinched Kayla’s flat stomach. "Ooo, I know when I’ve been challenged. Don’t think I’ll forget."
Kay
la rolled her eyes, feeling very comfortable in her own environment. She loved her job. "I live in fear."
"Funny." But Liv smiled and stood on tiptoe to give Kayla a quick peck on the lips.
"Liv?"
"Hmm?"
Kayla’s face turned serious and she slowly grasped Liv by the shoulders as though she was going to shake her. She didn’t. Instead, she held her firm. "I need to give you your first lesson in paranormal research." Her voice dropped an octave. "This is very important."
Liv’s ears perked up and in the blink of an eye she was mirroring Kayla’s serious expression. "Okay, I’m listening."
"This will help you in almost any circumstance, no matter what you’re doing. I can’t tell you how many times this tip has gotten me out of deep, dark situations that make me shudder just to remember."
Eyes wide, Liv gulped.
"It’s something I don’t want you to ever forget." Kayla paused meaningfully. "Understand?"
A fiery blue gaze burned into Liv and the older woman promised solemnly, "I won’t forget."
"Good." Unexpectedly, Kayla let go of Liv’s shoulders, turned on her heel, and purposefully strode across the floor. When she reached the doorway, her arm shot out and with a tiny ‘click’ the room was cast in a warm, buttery glow. She spoke without turning around, her unseen, crooked grin a mile wide. "Turn on the lights."
Liv blinked. "Son of a—"
Kayla’s shoulders started to shake with silent laughter and then she was gone, off to find the equipment that was supposedly waiting for her.
Liv could hear the smug chuckles growing more distant as Kayla padded deeper into the house. Ooo, I am so going to get her for smokin’ my butt that way, she mused, with more than a hint of admiration."I hate you, ghostbuster," she called out.
"No, you don’t," came the sure reply.
Liv smiled to herself. "No. I guess I don’t," she muttered dreamily. She looked around again, almost casually at first. Then, she began to notice that with Kayla’s absence, the room’s silence had somehow become a little unsettling. Not too much. But enough that Liv’s gaze flickered around the room as she sought to reassure herself that everything was all right. That she was, indeed, alone.
